


All for the Game Tumblr Prompts

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Series: All for the Game Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks, Sharing a Bed, meeting as children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: Transferring some of my Tumblr ficlets to here.





	1. I've Been Loving You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey we kissed once in kindergarten but I haven’t seen you since and I couldn’t remember why you were so familiar” I'm picturing Matt and Dan for some reason but honestly, I think it could work for any pairing ^w^

The first time he saw her, there was this little jolt of awareness. He had never felt anything like it before. He had the fleeting impression of brightly coloured wooden blocks, the smell of books, and the sticky sweet taste of orange slices on someone else’s mouth. 

“You ok?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. “Did you fry a circuit?”

“What? No!” He dragged a suddenly sweaty palm down the side of his shorts before reaching out his hand to her. “Matt...is my name. My name is Matt.”

“Danielle Wilds,” she said. “I’ll repeat myself since you seemed to miss our original introduction.”

Matt laughed nervously, painfully grateful that she didn’t grimace at the feel of his slimy hands. When she let go, he nervously tugged his sleeves down further to make sure she didn’t spy the track marks running up and down his forearms. She probably knew about them. His shameful past was all in his file and, as captain, she would see those files. Not for the first time, he wished he was a different person, someone who could deserve a girl like the one in front of him.

“Seth will show you to your room,” she gestured to a tall boy standing and scowling in the corner of the room. “You’ve got tonight to get settled in. Practice starts bright and early tomorrow morning so don’t stay up too late.”

“Uh yeah...uh thank...um bye,” Matt stammered and blushed. Seth glared and strode from the room, leaving Matt to struggle with the bags he was carrying. He had to run and Seth was almost out of view once he got out the door.

When they finally got to their shared bedroom, Matt flopped down on his bare bed and resigned himself to several years of pining.

He wasn’t wrong. It quickly became a constant part of his university experience, studying in the library and looking at Dan’s dark head bending over her books, running into walls in practice because he was too focussed on the way her body moved on the court, lying awake at night and imagining what could be different if he wasn’t a piece of shit addict who, even though he’d been mostly clean since joining the team, was still dreaming of his next high.

As so often happens, things got worse before they got better. And Matt went home for the summer after his first year. He found some of his old friends and whiled away the months in a pleasant haze. It was so much harder to come off the drugs again for school but he made the effort. If he couldn’t really be worthy of her, he could pretend. But even the pretending was harder and the promised oblivion from his needles beckoned and he didn’t have the resolve to resist.

Dan had her hands full with the new twins and their flamboyant cousin and Matt let himself drift into the background. Until Columbia. Matt doesn’t remember it beyond impressions of heat and cold and racing heart and clammy skin and coming out of it with a warm, familiar hand clasped in his and the voice of an angel telling him to “pull through, damn it!”

And so he did. He didn’t touch the drugs again. He clung to Dan and allowed himself to be pulled out by her considerable strength. Loving her was easy, so so easy. Letting her love him took practise. 

One night, as it was nearing the end if his sophomore year, Seth left them the room. A blushing Matt asked Dan to stay the night. They hadn’t gone all the way yet and Matt had some half-formed hope that tonight could be the night. But, as often happened with Dan, everything was different from his imagination. They lay, curled up together in his twin bed, skin to skin, exchanging the occasional lazy kiss, and Matt just talked. He told her everything, every sordid detail that kept him up at night, every bit of himself that he feared would drive her away. And she listened and didn’t pull away, let him caress her bare back with his palm, let him wind his fingers through her coarse, dark curls. And then she kissed him again, with intent, with promise.

“You’re it for me, Matt Boyd,” she whispered when all his secrets were laid bare and the well of words had run dry. “Nothing you can tell me now will drive me away. I think we were meant to be. You were my first kiss after all. And I was yours.”

Matt looked down at her alarmed. “I...what? I’ve kissed...I mean, the drugs. I didn’t...did you think I was a virgin?”

Dan laughed delightedly. “I never realised you didn’t remember!” she howled. “Kindergarten? Mrs Lautermilch’s class? You kissed me after the afternoon snack and told me you would love me forever. You can’t get out of it now, Boyd, a vow made over shared orange slices is sacred.”

Matt gaped at her but it was all coming back, the lonely child in the corner and the pure sunshine girl who wouldn’t let him push her away. He grinned up at her, unable to contain the joy. “Don’t make fun of me. Obviously, I was right.”


	2. Sweet Cherry Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve walked past the bakery I work at and stared longingly at one of the pies at least 4 times today I’ll buy it for you if you just stop” NEIL DOESN'T HAVE TO WORK AT THE BAKERY BUT PLEASE LET ANDREW STARE LONGINGLY AT A PIE

It’s so strange to have people around all the time. Especially because they almost always want something from him that he has no idea how to give. Nicky wants him to flirt back. Dan wants him to make friends and gel with the team. Matt particularly is there every time Neil turns around, asking him to watch a movie, to listen to a song, to exchange friendship bracelets and dance naked under the full moon to cement their bond for life. Well, that last one never happened exactly but Neil very carefully says nothing about it in case it gives Matt ideas. And now, because of the revelation that he is the newest fox, he never gets to go anywhere alone. So every time he leaves a class or has to run an errand, he kind of hopes he’ll find Andrew waiting for him. Because sure, Andrew doesn’t trust him. He’s been downright antagonistic at times. But he doesn’t want anything from Neil. They don’t have to make dreaded small talk or try to be friends. Neil relishes the lack of pressure.

But Andrew is looking at him now with the strangest look on his face. It’s one Neil hardly recognizes. He thinks it might be want, desire, maybe hunger. He didn’t think Andrew’s meds let him want anything. But no, Andrew isn’t looking at him. They’re walking past a locally owned bakery that set up on the edge of campus and Andrew is staring past him and into the window. Neil turns to look and sees a stunning cherry pie. The golden lattice on top is baked to perfection and the deep red of the cherries glistens through. Neil doesn’t really care for pie. If he had to pick a sweet dessert, he’d much rather eat cake. But this pie looks magnificent enough to tempt even him to have a slice. They walk past the shop and Andrew’s face returns to the same unsettling blankness.

Somehow, they end up walking past that bakery three more times that day and each time, Andrew stares until it’s out of view. The last time, Neil sighs and shakes his head and darts into the bakery, leaving Andrew standing alone on the sidewalk. He is out in a few minutes and shoving a box into Andrew’s hands.

Andrew just stares at him blankly and walks down the sidewalk without waiting for Neil to follow. He says nothing. But later, when he heads out for his bedtime run, he sees Andrew, taking out the garbage, licked out pie tin obvious in the top of the clear plastic garbage bag and Neil smiles to himself as his feet rhythmically strike the pavement.


	3. Pass the Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It’s 2am and I’m drunk and I need some salt for my fries and I know your awake so OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR" au I don't care which ship or pairing you make it or even if there isn't one and it's a gen Fox fic but LET THIS BE KEVIN SAYING THIS

They were both too high on adrenaline to sleep. The game was over, the final game against the Ravens, and they had won. Every time Neil closed his eyes, he could see a future stretching before him, a future without hiding, without running, and most importantly, a future full of learning about the enigmatic Andrew lying in bed beside him.

They had fallen into bed together the moment they were alone and hadn’t stopped touching until Neil was seeing stars and gasping Andrew’s name. But now they were in the calm, slow moments afterward. Neil rested his hand carefully on the bed between them and Andrew grasped him firmly, but not tightly by the wrist and they lay there, breathing each other’s air, just resting in the dark.

Their quiet was broken by a pounding on the door. “I know you guys are in there! Let me in!”

Andrews exhales sharply, the only outward sign of his annoyance.

“Maybe if we ignore him, he’ll go away,” Neil yawned, making no move to get up and go to the door.

“Come on guys, I know you’re in there!” Kevin shouted again. “It’s 2 am! I’m super drunk and they forgot to put fucking salt on my fucking fries!”

Neil rolled his eyes and crawled out of bed. He glanced at his shirt where it lay crumpled up on the floor but shrugged and wandered to the door without it.

Kevin flinched at the sight of Neil’s scars but he was too drunk to be fazed for long. He pushed past Neil to rummage through one of Andrew’s drawers, pulling out the shaker he kept for just this purpose. Neil grimaced in disgust as Kevin didn’t stop pouring until the greasy mess he carried was covered in a thick layer of white. But Kevin chomped down, uncaring, and washed it down with a swallow from the vodka bottle he had shoved into his hip pocket.

Neil sighed and snatched the bottle out of Kevin’s hand, replacing it with an open bottle of water from the counter. Kevin took a sip and looked at Neil with betrayal in his eyes. The mess of fries in his other hand threatened to spill all over the floor and Neil just grabbed it and shoved it into their overflowing trash can. Kevin opened his mouth to whine.

“Drink all of that,” Neil glared. “And go to bed.”

“Who made you my mom?” Kevin slurred.

“Or don’t,” Neil retorted. “Go pass out in the hallway. See if I care. I’m going back to bed.” And he crawled back in beside Andrew, taking up their earlier position again.

Kevin stood there for a while before draining the bottle of water and trying to crawl in behind Neil. “Come on, shove over,” he whined.

Neil did his best to give Kevin a little space while still maintaining Andrew’s personal bubble. Eventually, Andrew just made a noise of irritation in the back of his throat, grabbed Neil firmly by the hip, and pulled him right up against his body. 

“It’s okay,” Andrew whispered. “You can stay there.”

Kevin, took the last few inches of space and sealed himself up against Neil’s back. It was warm, and Kevin stunk, but suddenly, Neil found that he could sleep.


	4. Take Me Out of the Exy Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i was out in public and had an anxiety attack and you left your friends to give me some chocolate and talk me through it, so tysm” au Andreil (obvs) or Jerejean (not as obvs but still easy i think)

Andrew didn’t know why he agreed to this. Normally he could resist his cousin’s soulful gaze but Nicky was going to visit Germany for the summer and the house was going to be so much quieter than he was used to and so he gave in against his better judgement.

But it was so loud without the helmet muffling the roar of the crowd. Andrew almost never experienced an Exy game from this side of the plexiglass. Some middle-aged mother was ignoring her toddler son and screeching at the ref. The kid was yelling for her attention too, almost indistinguishable from the roar of the crows. It was bright too. Andrew squinted against the harsh lighting as an insistent pain throbbed in his eye socket. Every breath carried the stench of stale beer and perfume. And maybe he could handle these things individually but every sense is being assaulted and it’s too much, too much, too much, too much, too much.

Suddenly he becomes aware of a low voice breaking through the overload. A jacket is being held over his head, blocking some of the overhead light and he’s holding something smooth in his hands. He looks down to see an Aero bar in his hands and then he looks up to see a strange man with red hair and horrific scarring on his cheeks, and the man is speaking.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks gently, barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

Andrew tries to nod but he’s not, he’s not, he’s not and he’s shaking his head and he can’t stop and he’s breathing too fast. The man catches the chocolate bar as it slips from his fingers.

“Ok, we’re getting you out of here.” The man fits his sunglasses over Andrew’s face, blocking even more of the light. “I’m going to hold my jacket around you to shield you from the crowd but I won’t touch you unless you need my help to stand.”

Andrew finally manages to nod and pull himself to his feet. They shuffle awkwardly through the crowd, the man quietly murmuring directions. And finally, they’re out. The door shuts behind them and the roar of the crows cuts out. Andrew collapses against the wall and presses his sweaty face into the cool bricks.

The man pulls the chocolate bar out of his pocket and opens it, handing Andrew one piece at a time. Andrew obediently takes them with shaking fingers and puts them in his mouth, letting them melt and allowing the smooth flavour to ground him. It’s too much and not enough and Andrew doesn’t know what he needs. 

“How can I help?” the man asks.

Andrew tries to speak but when he opens his mouth, no sound comes out.

“Alright, we’ll try yes or no questions. Should I touch you, yes or no?” the man whispers.

Andrew shakes his head frantically, but stops and then nods once, patting his knee.

“Just there?” the man asks. He waits for Andrew’s nod again before he places his hand there, warm and gentle, and traces slow patterns on Andrew’s knee in rhythm with his long slow breaths.

“Do you want me to talk? Yes or no?” The man continues gently.

This takes Andrew longer to decide but eventually he nods and the man softly begins to talk about Exy games he had seen and to break down complicated plays. It is all stuff Andrew has heard before from Kevin and so he closes his eyes, letting himself drift, narrowing his world from the big, loud stadium down to just this, the whispered voice of the man beside him and the careful hand on his knee.

Andrew isn’t sure how long they sit there like that but eventually he lets out one long sigh, opens his eyes, and sits up properly. “Thank you,” he croaks.

“Hey, no problem. Honestly, if you’d help out a little longer, you might have been the one dragging me out of there with a jacket on my head. It’s a little overwhelming when you’re part of the crowd. I’d rather be out on the court any day.” The man laughs and suddenly Andrew recognizes him, Neil Josten, starting striker for the Minnesota Bearcats, the very definition of Tragic Past™. 

“I’m Neil,” he smiled but didn’t hold out his hand to shake. Andrew’s raw nerves thanked him. “You’re Andrew Minyard, aren’t you? I saw a couple of your university games this season. You really know how to shut down a goal.”

Andrew just nodded.

“Well, I should probably get back to my friends. Matt will probably call in the Army, Navy, and Air Force if I don’t check in soon. He’s kind of the overprotective dad friend,” Neil chuckles then holds out his phone. “Can I?” He stops and looks unsure. “I mean, only if you want to, but I’d kind of like to get your number.”

Andrew glares at him for a minute and waits until Neil starts to pull his hand back before snatching the phone and entering his number in the contacts.

“Cool,” Neil says. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“Ugh, don’t make me change my mind,” Andrew scowls.

Neil snatches his phone back. “Too late,” he grins. “I’ll text you,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads back into the stadium.

Andrew rolls his eyes and almost smiles. When he finally gets home that night, he moves the offer from the Minnesota Bearcats to the top of the pile.


End file.
